The Secret of the Purple Blanket
by Shorinai and quelirain
Summary: Someone has a Purple Blanket. But who? Warning: our first attempt at humor. Read&Review!


Note: the only thing in this fic that belongs to us is the idea of the Purple Blanket. Das' all. 

Warnings: Humor comes at a price. We know these characters are OOC. 

This idea came to us in a... fit of inspiration. Quelirain was lying in her bed wrapped in her purple blanket, and it kinda went from there. Ever wonder what would happen if the queen of almost-perfect first drafts and the queen of rewriting first drafts got together to write a humor fic? Our first (ever _and_ mutual) attempt at humor! We actually designed a kitchen for this fic, so enjoy, read and review! ^_~   


* * *

The Secret of the Purple Blanket

by Lady Shorinai and Quelirain 

  


The closet was dark, with the only light seeping in from under the door. From out of the shadows came a self-satisfied purr. "Pur... ple... blan... ket.... ......mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm............." A strong, wiry hand gently stroked the well-worn fuzzy side of the large sheet of fabric as he pressed his face against it. The cloth padded his back from the oddly-shaped lumps he was leaning against. He inhaled the familiar scent of old laundry detergent and his own hot breath. 

"........mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm..................." 

^> 

Duo was the first in his seat for dinner. As usual. Upon not seeing a pile of delectables already on the table, his grin turned into a pout. "Where's the fooooooooood?" he whined petulantly. 

Heero strode in the door and sat at his own customary place. "It's not ready yet, baka." 

Quatre's voice floated into the dining room. "It _almost_ is, Duo." He said something more, but the swinging door to the kitchen made it incomprehensible. 

"But I'm hungry nooooooooooOUCH!" Duo snatched his braid out of the hands of the perfect soldier, doing his best imitation of the Heero Yuy Death GlareTM. Heero returned the glare and Duo shrank down in his seat, but didn't protest. At that moment, the door to the kitchen opened, and Trowa stepped through carrying a bowl. Duo immediately perked up. "FOOD! YAY!" The braided pilot bounced in his seat until Trowa set the salad in front of him. Anything more he might have said was cut off by his shoveling forkfuls of lettuce and chopped vegetables into his mouth. The unibanged boy disappeared back into the kitchen. 

"Try to get more in your mouth than on the floor, baka," Wufei scolded as he entered through the french doors that opened onto the patio. As he sat, he retied his ponytail so it wasn't sticking to the damp skin of his neck. 

Quatre and Trowa returned together, hefting an oversized stainless steel stew pot between them. Duo lifted his head from the now-empty salad bowl, dressing smeared around his lips, and sniffed the smell of "...chili peppers?" 

"I hope I didn't add too much," Quatre said apologetically as the two carefully lifted the pot onto the table. The salad bowl was lifted to be served, but Trowa and Quatre had already returned to the kitchen. Undeterred, Duo ladled the thick stew into the salad bowl. Settling back into his seat, he stabbed a potato chunk with his fork and stuffed it into his mouth. His eyes bulged, watering, as he hastily swallowed and reached for his water, accidentally dragging the edge of his sleeve through the broth. The door to the kitchen opened again. "Did I make it too spicy?" Quatre asked as he set down a basket of breadsticks. 

"N-{cough}-no," Duo answered, wiping his eyes. "I shoulda waited for it to cool some." 

Trowa set the bowls and spoons on the table, taking one of each for himself. "...." He served himself and took his seat. The other pilots reached for the flatware and also served themselves. For a few minutes, the room was filled with silence as they ate. 

Wufei finished his first breadstick and decided to see if the stew was cool enough to eat yet. As soon as it touched his tongue he sputtered it back out and reached for his water glass. He managed to mutter "injustice" between gulps of the cool liquid. 

Quatre, his eyes as wide as saucers, looked up at him. "Y-you... you don't like it?" 

Muttering something indistinguishable under his breath, Wufei lowered his gaze back to his bowl. After studying the floating chunks of food for a long moment, he reluctantly choked down a spoonful of the broth. He didn't even have to look up to see the expression of joy radiating from blonde's face. 

Duo had settled into his practiced routine of chattering unceasingly through and between mouthfuls of food. "So Heero," he slurped, "how's the repair work on Zero coming?" 

"Hn." 

"That well, huh?" Duo grabbed for another breadstick. "Want some help after dinner?" 

Heero almost inhaled his mouthful of beef and carrots. "NO!" 

Duo looked hurt. "Geez, you don't have to be so mean about it. You'd think you were hiding something in there or something." He absently chewed another forkful of Ramen noodles. 

Heero looked down at his stew without comment. 

"Is Relena hiding in there?" Duo teased. He looked up to find himself staring up the barrel of a gun. Nonplussed, he swallowed and sweetly asked, "What, is it something I said?" 

"One... more... word... about... Zero... and—" Heero paused, trying to think of a dire enough threat. Quatre coughed discreetly, and Heero looked his way for a moment before returning his gaze to Duo. "Omae o korosu." He sat back down and blinked his thanks at the Arabian. 

"Yeesh, you need to loosen up," Duo muttered to himself. "It's not like it's a purple blanket or anything." 

All motion around the table stopped. Duo's eyes widened as he glanced up to find the other pilots staring off at various points in space. Inwardly breathing a sigh of relief, he resumed stuffing his face. 

After a few moments, Quatre piped up. "So... seen any good movies lately?" 

Duo was off and running—at the mouth. "I was watching this really cool movie about some guy in a band who had to come up with a better song than this messed up group of guys—" 

"Oh, Purple Rain?" Quatre interrupted. 

The room froze again. Even Duo stared blankly at Quatre, his fork halfway from his bowl. Then, grinning nervously, he shoved the fork's load of broth-soaked lettuce into his mouth before speaking. "So... that was some mission, huh?" 

"That was no battle," Wufei snorted. "Weak onnas. They are too weak to fight Nataku." 

Duo grinned, "It wasn't all Nataku. You remember how Trowa blanketed them—" Duo blinked. The others waited for him to finish his sentence. "—with fire." He tugged at the end of his braid and shoved some pepperoni and cheese into his mouth before he could say more. An uneasy silence reigned at the dinner table. 

"So... see any good TV shows lately?" Quatre asked. 

"Good? No. Funny? Yes. There's this really old American kids' show called Barney and Friends—I'm surprised you get that out here, by the way—about a dinosaur who teaches these kids about love and happiness and sharing." Duo squinted at Quatre, pointing his fork full of radishes and celery in the blonde's direction. "Actually, one of those kids really looked like you, Quatre." 

Quatre smiled. "Really?" 

"Yeah." Duo tipped his head to the side, chewing thoughtfully. "Y'know, I think they should kill Barney. It's purple. It would make a good blanket." 

Silence came from both Heero and Trowa, while Wufei vaguely mumbled "purple... blanket..." 

Quatre swallowed. "Hmm, purple blanket... wouldn't that be... nice?" He rose and began clearing away the dishes. 

"Hey, Q-man, wait a sec, I'm still eating!" Duo reached for the pot and began digging into it with his fork. The other pilots gathered their dishes and headed for the kitchen. 

As they passed through the swinging door, Heero asked, "Quatre, could I get this recipe?" 

^> 

Quatre stared at the pile of dishes in the sink, wishing one of the other pilots had stayed to help clean up the mess, but Heero, after extracting the promised recipe, had disappeared into the hangar; Trowa went to reload Heavyarms; Duo was still eating; and Wufei had "gone to worship Nataku." 

"Isn't there some rule that whoever cooks doesn't have to clean?" he muttered. "This just isn't fair." He sighed and reached for the metal tea canister hidden behind some prunes on the top shelf of the pantry. With a smile brighter than Zero's beam cannon, he opened the lid and removed the purple blanket hidden inside. With a coo of delight, he wrapped it around himself and settled to the floor of the pantry, kicking the door shut in the process. 

"Hello blanket.... guess what? People liked my food again today!" 

^> 

After he ate the two dozen chili peppers steeping in the broth at the bottom of the pot and the last eight breadsticks, Duo took the basket and the salad bowl to the kitchen. Unwashed plates still filled the sink. 

"Hm. That's strange," Duo thought. "Wasn't Quatre on kitchen duty tonight?" He shrugged. "Oh, well, wasn't me." He stacked his dishes on top of the others, went upstairs to his room, and closed the door. Then he reached under the bed for his black bag. Digging underneath a spare priest's outfit, his hand brushed fuzz. His face lit up as he slowly pulled the mass of purple fabric from the bag and rubbed his face in it. 

"Did'ja miss me?" Taking the dragging edge of the blanket, he threw it around his shoulders. "Yeah, I missed you too." Making indistinct murmuring noises, he wandered into the closet and shut the door. 

^> 

Trowa silently slid out of the cab of the truck he used to move Heavyarms, black case in hand. Glancing from side to side to ensure the coast was clear, he purposefully walked toward the house and slipped into the closet in the entryway, closing the door behind him. Pushing aside raincoats and galoshes, he snuggled in the corner before opening the case. A purr rose in his throat as he formed a nest with his purple blanket. 

^> 

Heero hung onto the cable as it brought him to closer to his objective. When he reached Wing Zero's cockpit, he sealed himself inside before reaching into a compartment in the bottom of his seat. He pooled the purple blanket in his lap. 

"Do you know what my mission is today, blanket?" he asked, grinning maniacally. "I'll show you!" With that battle cry, he glomped the blanket thoroughly. 

A few hours later, he crisply refolded the blanket and put it back in its compartment. "Mission accomplished." 

^> 

Before Heero had entered the hangar, the Chinese pilot had slipped into the cockpit of Shenlong. Wufei, curled up in the pilot's seat, nuzzled a purple blanket. "Nataku... Nataku..." he murmured with each motion of his head. 

^> 

When it got dark a few hours later, the pilots decided it was time for bed. 

Quatre finished washing the dishes and wandered upstairs, a dreamy smile on his face and a little purple fuzz in his pocket. He fingered it as he floated down the hall. "They liked my food," he thought happily. 

"Hey, Q-man, your sisters are on the phone," Duo called from his room. 

"A-all of them?" 

"Nah, just the ones from L-3. They're trying to arrange a septuple date with one of their friend's little sister." 

Quatre paled. "Did you tell them I was home?" 

"Sure. Don't you want to talk to your family?" 

Quatre managed a shaky smile and walked toward his room. "T-thank you, Duo." 

^> 

Trowa and Heero passed each other in the living room. They blinked greetings to each other and headed upstairs separately. 

^> 

Around 2 a.m., Quatre hung up the phone. Shaken, he went to his closet, unlocked the secret door, and went inside. Reaching out, he pulled down a purple blanket from the third from the top shelf on his left. He whimpered. "They're trying to set me up again..." He slid down into a corner of the chamber. "...trying to set me up again..." 

^> 

Wufei had dozed off in the cockpit, his face still buried in his blanket. He didn't stir until first light. 

^> 

The pilots regularly scheduled wake-up call was replaced by an ear-splitting cry of "INJUSTICE!!!!!!" Wufei stormed up the stairs, fire in his eyes and blue pants in his hand. 

The other pilots stuck their heads out of their respective doors. Duo yawned. "Hey, Wu-man? Isn't it a little... early to be ranting about injustice?" 

Wufei shoved the pants and shoved under the braided boy's nose. "_Justice _does not care about _time_," he hissed. 

Sleepily, Quatre said, "Wufei, what's wrong?" 

"This. Is. Injustice! _Some_body washed _some_thing with the whites. So now, _everything_ is _BLUE!_" 

"Hey, Wu-man, it'll match your tank top." 

"Maxwell. _You_ did this, didn't you!" 

Duo shrugged. 

"Since when has Duo done laundry?" Heero asked. 

"Hey! I do laundry... when I need to." Duo yawned again. "I'm going back to bed. Wake me if something important happens." Duo went back inside and closed his door. The others slowly closed their own doors, leaving Wufei alone in the hallway. 

"In_just_ice!!" Shaking with rage, he bellowed, "I— I— I MUST GO WORSHIP NATAKU!" He stormed off. 

Returning to the cockpit of Shenlong, pants still clenched tightly in one fist, he pulled his purple blanket out of its hiding place. "...injustice.... Nataku, _look_ what they _did_ to my _pants!_" he wailed piteously to the cloth as he clambered back down to the ground. He draped it over his head, and looked up to address the blanket. "Yes, of course you're right, Nataku. Justice will be served." Wufei went in search of an appropriate closet in which to plan Maxwell's imminent demise. 

^> 

Duo, curled securely in a cocoon of freshly-dried purple on his bed, murmured reassuringly. "That was close. I was worried I wouldn't get you before _he_ found you down there. Don't worry, I won't let that justice-freak lay his hands on you." A maniacal glint came into his eyes. "I'll get him first." He managed to hold in the laughter that welled up in his chest, but couldn't repress his grin. 

^> 

Heero opened up a panel in Zero's cockpit, then reached for his laptop to upgrade the comm system. His hand met empty air. He turned to look at the ledge where he'd set his laptop not five minutes ago. It wasn't there. 

Climbing out of the cockpit, Heero scanned the hangar to see if he'd left it somewhere else. A full search of the hangar revealed neither laptop nor clues as to its location. Which meant only one thing. 

His eyes narrowed dangerously. "Duo..." 

Storming out of the hangar, Heero found Duo in the kitchen, finishing off his second box cereal. "Hey, what's up, Heero? Want some cereal? I ate all the Frosted FlakesTM, but—" Heero grabbed Duo by his braid, pulling him out of his chair. "Hey, hey, calm down! There's still Corn Pops TM in the pantry! Raisin bran, too!" 

Heero growled menacingly. "Laptop. Where?" 

Duo shrugged. "What're you askin' me for?" Heero pulled harder on Duo's braid, stretching it away from the American's head. "Hey, easy on the hair! That hurts!" 

Heero relaxed his grip slightly. "Laptop. Now." 

"I don't have it, okay?" Prussian blue eyes narrowed further. Then the Japanese pilot dropped the braid, turned on his heel, and stalked out of the room. After taking a detour through the hangar, he went in search of a dark closet where he could sit with his blanket. He opened the steel-lined door to a weapons-closet and froze in shock. There, in the corner, was a mound of purple, muttering quietly about justice. One eyebrow rose. 

"Wufei?" 

The muttering stopped, then a startled Chinese face emerged from the cloth. "Heero?" The two stared at each other, alternating from blankets to faces. Finally, Wufei said, "Duo." 

"Hn." 

Wufei nodded invitingly. Heero closed the closet door on them both. 

^> 

Quatre padded downstairs in his pink-and-blue polka dot pajamas. "Anybody in here?" he called when he entered the dining room. 

Receiving no answer but the echo of his own voice, he wandered into the kitchen to find his favorite cereal—Frosted FlakesTM. "Duo," he muttered under his breath as he saw two Frosted FlakesTM boxes sitting next to an empty bowl on the kitchen counter. He picked up the box. It seemed unusually light. He peered inside. It was empty. He picked up the second box. It, too, was empty. 

He pouted and set the box down, then headed to the pantry. "There has to be another box in here _some_where." 

Half and hour later, the pout had deepened into a frown. "No more? There's no more?" 

With a trembling lower lip, he reached for his second favorite cereal—Rice KrispiesTM—then went to the refrigerator to get the strawberries and milk. 

After he finished breakfast and washed his bowl and spoon, his eyes were watery and his lower lip poked out. "No one ate breakfast with me," he whimpered, closing himself in the pantry. In the dark, he reached out for a familiar yellow box—Aunt Jemima's Instant PancakesTM, just add water!—and pulled out a purple blanket. 

"No was was around to eat breakfast with me, so I had to eat alone," Quatre sadly told his blanket as he snuggled it against his cheek. 

Suddenly, a wedge of light cut through the darkness, momentarily blinding Quatre. His shining eyes peered into the light until he made out the figure of a certain unibanged pilot... "Trowa?" 

"...." 

"Trowa... umm... but... I... there was no one around to eat breakfast with me," he whined. 

"...." 

"...but... I... uh... had to eat _alone_!" 

Silently, Trowa picked up a new loaf of bread and turned to leave. "I have one, too," he admitted before closing the door. 

Quatre smiled in the darkness. "Hey... we could have another friend!" he told his blanket. Folding it carefully, he put it back in the box and ambled upstairs. He had to find his "I think we've made a new friend" blanket. 

On his way down the hall to his room, Quatre saw a purple-robed figure moving in his direction. The figure was muttering something about "justice being served." 

"Wufei? Is that you under there?" 

The figure stopped. Its blanket-covered head turned from side to side, then shook violently, the blanket sliding back to reveal the Chinese pilot's startled visage. 

"It's okay. I've got purple blankets, too," Quatre said. "Come on, I'll show you." 

The two boys went into Quatre's room, where he unlocked the secret door in his closet. Shelves of purple blankets filled the room.

Speechless, Wufei sank to his knees amid the splendor of purple.

Quatre pulled a blanket from a bottom shelf on the right. "This is my 'we made two new friends today' blanket.

Wufei whispered reverently, "Purple... blankets..."

Excited, Quatre reached for a specially sealed box in the center of the room. He opened it and removed a crisply folded purple sheet of fresh fuzz. "I've been waiting to use _this_ one," Quatre squealed. "It's my 'I've just brought someone into my purple blanket closet' blanket." Ecstatic, he immediately pulled both blankets around himself and settled to the floor, a boneless puddle of purple. Wufei soon followed suit.

^>

Two blanket-wrapped figures meandered around the house. They entered the living room from different sides, spotted each other, and stopped.

*blink* (Hello.) 

*blink* (Hello.) 

*blink* (Purple blanket.) 

*blink* (You too.) 

*blink* (Hmm.) 

*blink* (Hm.) 

*blink* (See you.) 

*blink* (See you.)   


  


^> 

Duo watched wide-eyed from the dining room as two figures covered in purple stared at each other for a minute, then turned and exited. His jaw dropped. 

"_More_ purple blankets?! Two purple blankets? _Two_ purple blankets. But _I_ have the only... purple... blank..." He turned and flew up the stairs to his room. Barely pausing to shut the door, he dove under his bed, reaching for his black bag. Mindlessly chanting "blanket, blanket, blanket...", he frantically dug through layers of black fabric until his hand encountered reassuring, soft, fuzz. Impatiently jerking the blanket out of the bag, sending once-neatly-folded clothes flying across the room, he heaved a great sigh of relief. "Blanket. _My_ blanket. Don't scare me like that! Making me think one of them stole you. Naughty blanket!" He scowled at the offending purple, but the expression slowly drained from his face to show the pleasure beneath it. "But I can never stay mad at you!" Grinning impishly, he huddled in one corner, curled protectively around the fuzziness. 

^> 

Eventually, hunger drove Wufei and Quatre from the temple of purpledom. Wrapped in their blankets—Quatre had switched to his traveling blanket, specifically for moving from place to place in fuzzy purple comfort—the two boys started down the hallway and nearly ran into another purple-shrouded figure. All three nodded congenially to the others before continuing on their way. 

"Trowa's got a nice purple blanket. He must take really good care of it," the blonde said, his voice muffled by the flap of blanket hanging in front of his face. 

"Trowa?" 

"Yes, that was him we passed. Wasn't it?" 

"No... it was Heero." Two purple-covered heads turned to face each other, then the blankets were flipped up to reveal puzzled expressions. "Trowa has a purple blanket?" 

"Heero has a purple blanket?" 

They both said, "Hm," and continued to lunch, flipping their blankets back down on the way. 

^> 

Duo had been called away from his blanket at the insistence of his stomach. He padded downstairs and froze on the bottom step. 

In front of him were three figures clad in purple blankets. They stared at each other for a minute, then, as one, turned and stared at Duo. 

Duo "eep"ed and tried to back up the stairs, but he stumbled and landed on his backside instead. 

"Pur.. pur.. pur.. pur.. pur... Purple blanket!" He scrambled to his feet and ran back to his room. 

Chuckling, the three went to the kitchen. 

^> 

Heero strode down the hall in his blanket, laptop hidden within its folds. He watched calmly as Duo came racing down the hall at full tilt, saw him, yelped incoherently, then bolted down a side corridor. 

"Hn." 

Continuing downstairs, he saw two other purple-clad shapes in the kitchen. He raised an eyebrow, then attacked, grabbing the nearest purple blanket. Blonde hair framed startled blue eyes, and Quatre quickly retrieved the fallen cover. 

Circling a table, Heero reached for the next purple blanket, removing it swiftly to reveal a single green eye and mussed bangs. Trowa blinked in greeting. 

A third purple-covered figure emerged from the pantry. Heero pounced. 

"Injustice!" Wufei shouted, scrambling for his blanket. 

Heero held up the laptop. "Explain." 

"It's your laptop. You're carrying it." Wufei tenderly held Nataku in his arms, checking her over for damage. 

"It was in your room." 

Wufei's eyes narrowed. "Are you accusing me of something, Yuy?" 

Heero glared at Wufei. "You. Took. My. Laptop." 

Wufei pulled Nataku closer to him. "I. Was worshipping. Nataku!" He took a step forward. "You dare to challenge Nataku's honor?" 

Heero silently raised a purple arm and pointed an indistinct shape at the Chinese pilot. "Omae o korosu." 

"No! Nataku, protect me!" Wufei cried, pulling the blanket over his head. 

Quatre grabbed his "there's about to be a murder in the kitchen, and I have to try to stop it" blanket from its tupperware container in the back of a refrigerator. "Wait, Heero! I'm not ready yet!" He wrapped himself in the cool folds of fuzziness while Heero waited impatiently. "Heero... you saw Wufei this morning. He _was_ with Nataku, remember?" 

The Japanese pilot considered this for a moment, then intoned, "Hn," and lowered his arm. 

Smiling, Quatre stuffed his blanket back into its container in the refrigerator and searched over the stove for his "I just prevented a murder in the kitchen" blanket. It was nice and warm, just as he liked it. 

Heero blinked. 

Trowa blinked. 

Wufei growled, "Injustice." 

Quatre smiled. "Do you think it was Duo?" 

"Hn." 

^> 

Duo huddled in the deepest shadows his could find in the back of his closet, pulling the purple fabric around him like a shield. "Blanket... what's going on? Why are there so many of you? You are _my _blanket, aren't you? You're not some... _substitute_?" 

The door to the closest cracked open. 

Four purple shadows loomed just outside the closet door, watching him as he shook in fear. "Blanket! Save me!" 

One of the shadows spoke. "Purple... blanket?" 

Another nodded. "Purple blanket." 

"Purple blankets are just." 

"Hn." 

Duo looked up at the shadows. His eyes grew large as he understood. "Purple blanket!" Standing, he draped himself in purple. "So, what's for lunch?" 

^> 

Later that evening, the setting sun cast an orange tint to the five mounds of purple lying on the floor in the living room. 

"....mmmmmm... pur... ple... blan.... kets.... mmmmmmmmmmm...." 

****owari****   
  



End file.
